


Rare as is true love

by Smoochynose



Series: Asexual Awareness Week [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic!Mirajane, Asexual Awareness Week, Asexual Character, Asexual!Mirajane, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Multi, OT3, Possible triggers due to very mild dub-con situation, Queerplatonic Relationships, Sort-of sequel of The Last Cake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smoochynose/pseuds/Smoochynose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even on the cold nights though, when her heart is weak with wanting, she’s never resentful of those who have that companionship she desires. At least until one couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rare as is true love

**Author's Note:**

> So I was told a few hours ago that Ace week is tomorrow (now today) and this fic came sprawling out of my mind. It's been my headcannon a while now that Mirajane is asexual and it platonic bit of a queerplatonic OT3 with Freed and Laxus.

* * *

**Rare as is true love**

* * *

 

 _“Rare as is true love, true friendship is rarer.”_ _  
― Jean de La Fontaine_

* * *

 

Sometimes, on the colder nights when the Guild has emptied out and Mirajane is left alone to clear up, she can’t help but feel jealous. She sees her friends leave in pairs, some seemingly without realising what they are going, and can’t help but want that too. It’s not the romance she wants (and certainly not the other activities couples are prone to engage in) but it’s the gentle fondness shown in soft looks and brushed hands. The kind of look that promises unending support and companionship.

That’s something even she desires.

Most nights though, when the guild is warm and loud, that jealousy never raises its head. How can it? Mirajane has her siblings, her wonderful siblings who learnt transformation magic so she wouldn’t be alone. More than that, she has the biggest family going. She has all the support and companionship she needs and offers her own freely in return.

Even on the cold nights though, when her heart is weak with wanting, she’s never resentful of those who have that companionship she desires. In fact she’s happy to see her friends so happy. And okay, sometimes she meddles and gives certain situations a push or brings awareness of certain possibilities into the minds of those involved. Seeing her friends come alive when they get their act together fills her heart with warmth.

Maybe she’s living vicariously through them. Maybe she isn’t. Mirajane isn’t even sure herself. Either way, seeing a match work out always fills her with a certain kind of happiness.

Until one day it doesn’t. Or rather one couple.

The joy she feels initially at seeing Laxus and Freed slowly turns to bitterness that shocks herself. More than that she can’t quite pinpoint where it comes from or even who it’s directed at. Laxus and Freed are both good friends and only now she realises how they stealthily they snuck into the deeper reaches of her heart.

There were nights she spoke more candidly with Laxus than she ever could with even Elfman or Lisanna. Then there were long evenings spent with Freed, talking about deeply personal things that had lain buried in their hearts for so long. Finally there were days when Laxus had stiffly mentioned she had spent too long inside the guild cleaning up after the others and he and Freed dragged her into the open air of the parks and bathed in the warm light together.

Somehow without noticing, she found the close companionship she had wanted all along. Laxus and Freed becoming Laxus-And-Freed had changed things. Sometimes she selfishly found herself wishing they’d never got together, only to instantly regret and be sickened by the thoughts.

The cold nights (the ones that left Mirajane feeling more alone than even the time she almost left Elfman and Lisanna behind) became increasingly common. The warmth and joy she got from watching her guildmates be happy slowly seeped away, her smiles became strained, and all the while she felt guilty for feeling that way.

She pretends not to notice her siblings concerned looks, acts blind when the others start to notice as well. She spends more time at the guild, trying to fill the void Laxus-And-Freed has left behind. And during the day, it mostly works. There’s so many people passing through it keeps her so busy that she has no time to think on it. But as the night wears on, people trickle out, and Mirajane is left alone.

The loneliness is what kills her the most.

And it’s the loneliness, more than anything, that makes her say yes when some star struck young lad that has read about her in Sorceror Magazine comes into the guild and asks her on a date.

Nobody is surprised that a young man has sort her out to ask her on a date. It happens all the time. They are surprised however when she says ‘yes’. Mirajane has been part of the guild a long time and not once in that time has she ever been inclined to return anyone’s attention. They look at the young man, who is all broad-shouldered confidence that borders on arrogance, and try to see whatever is so special that Mirajane has seen has seen in him that they haven't.

She doesn’t tell them that she doesn’t see anything. That she just wants to recapture that feeling of belonging. She ignores Lisanna’s concerned glance and the way Elfman glares at the man protectively. Instead she smiles and agrees to meet her date at the guild at seven.

He leaves pretty quickly, having secured his date. Mirajane carries on with serving drinks and ignores the looks and whispers and the queasy mass of nerves in her stomach that is already making her regret her choice.

She leaves Kinanna in charge of serving food and drinks at the guild that afternoon and heads home to ready herself for the date, only to realise she isn’t exactly sure what people do to get ready for dates or what is appropriate to wear. She stares at her wardrobe in confusion and realises she didn’t even ask her date where they were going.

Luckily she doesn’t get a chance to stare too long. The doorbell rings once before Evergreen walks in like she owns the place. She takes one look at Mirajane’s confused face before she pushes into her bedroom and starts rooting around in her wardrobe.

“I knew you’d be struggling. Let’s see if we can find something. Oooh, this is nice,” she exclaims pulling out a sequined top.

Mirajane doesn’t even bother to ask how she knows about the date despite not having been in the guild that day. Gossip is faster than any other source of news after all. She’s really just grateful for the help, even if Evergreen steers her away from outfits that show little or no cleavage.

“It’s your first date, even if you don’t want to show too much off, you don’t want to dress like a nun.”

Mirajane has never been uncomfortable showing off her “assets” before. She likes to dress nice because it makes her feel good. Dressing in a certain way for someone else, especially knowing that they’ll be thinking of her in a sexual manner, makes her want to shy away from the situation.

Eventually Mirajane settles on a deep blue dress that has a neckline halfway between what she wants and what Evergreen says looks good on her. It’s a dress she has worn many times before but suddenly feels uncomfortably exposed in.

“You look beautiful,” Evergreen tells her. “Knock him dead.”

The walk back to the guild is uncomfortable. Passing glances from people on the street suddenly have an undertone that feels threatening. Mirajane is suddenly all too aware of the way they could be thinking about her body. Getting to the guild is both better and worse. It’s suspiciously more crowded than usual and, while her guildmates’ looks don’t feel threatening like the strangers on the street, their curiosity is stressful.

It’s almost a relief when her date arrives, or at least it is until his eyes in her appearance and lingers on certain places. He’s discrete about it of course, most would probably even call him gentlemanly (he’s changed into a suit and gave a small bow before offering her his hand), so Mirajane buries her discomfort and takes the hand.

She doesn’t want to be alone anymore.

The evening is partly what she wants it to be. His focus is on her the whole night. There’s no significant other that she is second fiddle to. To this man, for tonight at least, she is the most important person. And even if she feels guilty, like she’s leading him on with promises she can’t keep, that feeling is something she has longed for. To come first in another person’s eyes is a powerful thing. Enough so that when half way through their meal he places his hand on her thigh, she ignores the way her skin wants to crawl away from the touch and how there’s a voice in her head telling her to retreat.

For that connection, to feel wanted by someone, she can make herself press through everything else. Mirajane tells herself this as many times as she needs to until it feels like the truth and pretends not to notice the way her shaking hands make the cutlery clatter against the plate.

Then her date is saying something and leaning in close.  She suddenly feels tiny as he looms over her. She sees things almost in slow motion, the way he leans in to kiss her and the way his mouth parts. Her heart stutters fast (and not in the good way people talk about) and she feels herself freeze in panic.

 _Shecan’tdothis.Shecan’tdothis.She_ can’t _dothis._

She feels sick, like she’s about to throw up and she still can’t move away.

Her date suddenly jolts back and swears, shaking his hand. Mirajane sucks in a breath of air.

“Are you okay?” she asks, managing to keep the tremble out of her voice.

“Just a static shock,” he brushed off. “It just surprised me.”

Mirajane nods and then strikes up a line of conversation before he can try and kiss her again. She wants the date to just end. It was a terrible idea and she feels worse now than before she accepted. She wants to go back home, shut her bedroom door, crawl under the duvet, and hide away from the world.

“Mira,” a voice interrupts from behind.

Of all people, Freed is standing there looking very tense. Worry and concern is etched deep into is face and suddenly Mirajane’s mind is flooded with all sorts of scenarios. “What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

There’s a brief flicker of something in his eyes before he turns to the other man. “I’m really sorry to interrupt your date but Mira needs to come with me now.”

Even as her date nods, telling Mirajane not to worry and that he’ll get the bill, Mirajane feels sick to her stomach for the second time in five minutes but for entirely different reasons. What could have happened to make Freed look like that? That he can’t tell her in front of other people?

He leads her out the door and suddenly Laxus is there too, guiding her away. “What’s happened? W-Who’s…?” she stutters out. Her mind flashes back to the moment that for so long she was convinced Lisanna had died in her arms.

Freed’s face loses colour. “Oh. Oh god. No, Mira. Everyone’s okay. I was just trying to get you out of there without that guy kicking up a fuss. Everyone’s fine.”

Mirajane’s legs go weak with relief. Laxus manages to catch her before she hits the ground. “Come on, let’s find somewhere quiet to sit. He half guides, half carries after Freed, as the long haired man locates a bench in a small secluded park.

When Mirajane is settled on the bench, Laxus leans down slightly to rest a warm hand on the top of her head. “Are you okay?”

Mirajane could have said a million different things. She could have lied, answered honestly, or evaded the question entirely. Instead the genuine concern for her wellbeing broke her down into tears. She threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his stomach and sobbed. She could feel Laxus gently wind his own arms around her, like a protective barrier from the rest of the world. A soft, kind hand ran over head and Freed’s voice murmured soothing platitudes.

“I was stupid, so stupid,” she cursed herself.

“No,” Laxus said firmly. “No, you weren’t.”

“We’re the ones who overlooked something precious,” Freed added. She could feel Laxus hum agreement.

It took a moment for her to understand what they meant. “But I’m not… I don’t want…” Mirajane struggled to find the words. How can you explain to a person you want to be with them but at the same time you don’t want to be with them, not in the way most people meant?

“We know,” Laxus said firmly, his strong voice comforting in the way it promised safety and protection.

“Not to mention we’re still gay,” Freed gently teased. He gently stroked the side of her face. “It’s okay now.”

The tears started up again, though this time out of relief. When she finally stopped, Laxus and Freed made sure she was truly okay before walking her home. Her brother and sister were waiting for her at the door. Mirajane was sure they wanted to say something when they saw her tearstained face but equally sure that it was Laxus’ fierce look behind her that quelled any questions. And while Laxus took her up to her room and tucked her into bed like a child, Freed stayed behind. Presumably to answer her siblings questions.

Laxus set in silence at the end of her bed for a moment before speaking. “Don’t force yourself to do anything like that again.” It wasn’t a command, more of a concerned request.

“I won’t,” she promised, before slipping into dreamless sleep.

After that the cold nights after the guild has emptied and she’s left to clear up aren’t so cold anymore. Laxus and Freed sit a table waiting for her to finish and to walk her home. Sometimes they talk to her, sometimes they’re too wrapped up in each other. Either way it doesn’t stop the warmth from knowing that they’re there for her.

And that’s really what she’d wanted all along.

**Author's Note:**

> I was halfway through this story when I realised that Mirajane had never referred to herself as asexual, sex-repulsed, or aromantic. At that point I though that it was pretty realistic that she didn't have the words to describe what she felt to the others and left it that way. Laxus and Freed understand how she feels anyway, which is why they worriedly stalked her date... I mean managed to arrive to interrupt her date at a suspiciously convenient time. Mira's date doesn't have a name because he isn't important. He's a nameless representation of what any traditional relationship would be like.


End file.
